


Stay

by Satine86



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Mild Angst, Post-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 06:05:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4553574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satine86/pseuds/Satine86
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Varric is returning to Kirkwall, but is it an end or a beginning?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Two people prompted me: Mamihlapinatapei - The look between two people in which each loves the other but is too afraid to make the first move. 
> 
> So I decided to string them together to fulfill an idea I'd been toying with.

She always knew it would happen eventually. After their victory, after the job of the Inquisitor changed from savior to fixer, it was only a matter of time.

Though it seemed even with all her forethought, she found it came too soon and she was not at all prepared. Still, she stood with everyone, or at least those who were still left at Skyhold, to bid Varric goodbye before his journey back to Kirkwall. 

“Well, Seeker, looks like you’re finally rid of me,” he said with a careless wave of his hand. She felt like her heart was in her throat. 

“About time, I was beginning to think you would never leave.” She fidgeted, wringing her hands as she thought about what to do. What to say. Should she tell him she didn’t want him to go? That she would miss him… that she might lo– No, she would not. Because he needed to return to his home, and it was her fault he had been dragged from there in the first place. She would not be so selfish. Not now.

She was surprised when he seemed to grow nervous, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “I was thinking, if you don’t mind, maybe I could write to you? I can keep you apprised of any future updates for Swords and Shields.” 

He smiled at her then, a slow grin that seemed to grip her heart like a vice. 

“Yes, Varric, I would like that. Even if you do not have anything to say.” She hesitated for a moment, gathering her courage, and then bent forward and hugged him tightly. 

“Have a safe journey,” she whispered before pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

When she pulled back they stared at each other for a moment, shock was evident in his gaze, but something else she could not place. Something else that made her mouth go dry. Eventually, as if waking from a spell, Varric shook his head and swallowed thickly. 

She thought he wanted to say something, but someone was calling his name, and he turned to finish his goodbyes. Whatever it was left unsaid.


	2. Chapter 2

“So,” Aveline drawled, “how does it feel to finally be back in Kirkwall?”

Varric took a pull of his ale and propped his feet on his desk while he thought. “About like I expected,” he finally said. “Strange, but good.”

“Well, it’s good to have you back. I’m glad you sent word.” Aveline toasted him with her own mug of ale. “Hopefully next time we can get more of the group together.”

“Assuming Raivani decides to come back?” He laughed, wondering how Daisy’s first voyage was going. He was sure it would make a hell of a story.

Aveline tsk’d at him. “Isabela will come back. She always does. Besides, she knows I’ll put out a price on her head if she doesn’t.”

Varric cackled at that. “You’ve gotten ruthless, Aveline.”

“Just protective of what I care about.” She paused, eyes shrewd as she looked at him. “Was it difficult?”

“What? Saving the world?” He gave her a slow smile. “Nah, it was surprisingly easy.”

She rolled her eyes. “I meant leaving. In your letters it sounded like you’d gotten comfortable there, and goodbyes are never easy.”

“No. They’re not.” He tried not to think about his last day there. He tried not think about Cassandra, how soft her lips were when she kissed his cheek, how warm her breath had been against his skin. If she had asked to him stay, he would have. Without hesitation. That realization had rocked him to his core, and hadn’t been far from his mind his entire journey back to Kirkwall.

But she hadn’t asked, and he hadn’t offered. They were friends at best. Nothing more.

“Are you all right?” Aveline asked, breaking through his melancholy thoughts.

“Just tired, it was a long trip.”

She nodded and drained her cup, rising from her chair. “I’ll let you get some rest. Fenris will be back in town within a couple days, and Isabela’s ship is scheduled to return in a fortnight. Then we can all welcome you home properly.”

“By getting me shitfaced and stealing my smalls?”

“That was one time, Varric. Besides, it was Hawke’s idea.”

“Sure, sure.”

Aveline laughed softly and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “It is good to see you again, Varric.”

“Same here, Aveline.”

She smiled at him and slipped out the door, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He should sleep, the idea of resting his own damn bed was a glorious one. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to settle down for the night.

So he refilled his cup with the last of the ale in the jug, and decided to write to Hawke. The least he could do was let her know he was alive and well and back in Kirkwall. Maybe he would try to visit her one day, he doubted she’d return to Kirkwall ever again. Not when Blondie was a wanted man.

He also thought maybe he would send word to Skyhold, let them know he had made it safely. The Inquisitor would like to know, had said as much before he left. Maybe… nah, better not to dwell on whether or not anyone else would care.

And so Varric wrote his letters late into the night, and sent them out in the morning. He would not get a reply, not for several days at least, and so he went back to his desk to sort everything that had been forgotten in his absence.


	3. Chapter 3

Not even home for twenty-four hours and he was already elbow deep in paperwork. Andraste’s dimpled ass, but he hated paperwork.

He wagered it must be close to dinner time when one of the serving maids slipped into the room. He glanced up, a thank you ready, but noticed that her hands were empty. Instead he lifted his brows in question.

“There’s some here to see you.”

“Fenris?”

“No.” She paused, a strange look on her face. “It’s a woman.”

It couldn’t be Hawke. There was no fucking way. Scooting back his chair, Varric hurried into the main room of the Hanged Man. It was quiet, only a few regulars peppering various tables, and a figure lurking by the door.

Their back is turned, the hood of their travel-stained cloak was up, obscuring their face. There was a restlessness to their pacing, a jitteriness to the way their gloved hand taps against against their side. For a moment Varric thought it might be Hawke, but then the figure turned and he caught a glimpse of a familiar scar.

“Cass–” he started, but caught himself. He could count the number of times he’d called her by name on one hand. It was special, he thought, and not his to use. Not really. “Seeker, what are you doing here? Is there a problem, the Inquisitor send you?”

There couldn’t be trouble, some other awful, detestable thing that they needed to take care of. He would have heard about it, wouldn’t he have? Word traveled fast, as the saying went. Crows traveled fast too. Faster than a Seeker at any rate.

She pushed back her hood, revealing a pale face and pinched eyes and shook her head. He wasn’t entirely convinced, given the look on her face, but he knew she wouldn’t lie. Not about Inquisition business.

“Don’t tell me you missed me already?” he drawled, hoping it would alleviate the tension in her shoulders. Lighten the mood.

Unfortunately it appeared to be the exact wrong thing to say.

Cassandra looked stricken at his words, breath hissing out through her nose. Glancing away, she shook her head again, dismissive.

“I shouldn’t… I’m a fool…” The words were soft, barely above a whisper, but Varric heard them clearly as if she had shouted them.

“Whoa, hey.” He reached out, caught her hand before she could flee. “Come on.”

Every eye in the place was on them, he knew it without looking. So he started pulling her back to his private room, away from prying eyes.

“Next round is on me!” he called before disappearing up the steps. That would surely give them something else to talk about, at least for a short while. He closed his door on the raucous cheers from the regulars and turned to look at Cassandra.

“So…?” he prompted when she didn’t speak, instead pacing before the fireplace.

She stopped pacing and looked up, her gaze falling on his bed in the corner. She glanced toward him with wide eyes.

“These are your quarters.” It wasn’t a question.

“Right. Now out with it, Seeker. What are you doing here?”

The fact she was nervous was clear as day, it was just such a strange thing to see on her. He’d seen her reluctant, hesitant maybe. But never nervous.

She looked at him, and despite all her nerves her gaze was steady. Varric found a strange hope blooming in his chest, one he hadn’t felt in….well, ever. Not like this. She pressed her lips together and lowered her head, she wanted to say something. Wanted to say more. But he knew she couldn’t find the words.

So he decided to help her out. Offer her what he had wished for when he left Skyhold.

“Cassandra?” Her head snapped up at that, eyes questioning. Varric swallowed, his own nerves starting to get the better of him. “Would you like to stay?”

Five simple words, spoken with a lightness he didn’t feel. Five words that held a whole lot more than just a place to get something hot to eat, or rest for the night.

The smile that bloomed on her face was the most brilliant and beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life.

“I would like that, Varric.”


End file.
